


The Setting Of The Sun

by Dolimir



Category: Smallville
Genre: Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-16
Updated: 2011-06-16
Packaged: 2017-10-20 11:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time passes, but friendship never dies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Setting Of The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Slodwick's Fourth Annual 'A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words' Challenge

  
[   
](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v11/Dolimir/?action=view&current=16.jpg)   


“Chloe.”

When her eyes open, you find yourself immediately bathed in joy. There is no hesitation, like Pete used to give you as he internally complained how it wasn’t fair that he had to grow old and you didn’t; or the slightly confused fear you usually saw in Lana’s eyes when she looked at you, like she could almost place you, but wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

“Clark.” No matter how many decades have passed, you still live for her smile, which she never denies you. “Did you make it up here unscathed?” Her voice is as fragile as her body, but that doesn’t stop the wicked delight from coming through loud and strong.

Even after all these years, she can still make you blush like the thirteen year old nerd you were when you first met her.

“Relatively.”

Her chuckle is nothing but a breath, but she demands to know which of her teenage granddaughters got you this time.

“Allison.”

Her smile grows even wider and you find yourself blushing just a little harder because Allison reminds you so much of Chloe when she was seventeen – all inquisitiveness and passion. There is no doubt in your, or anyone else’s, mind that she will be following in Chloe’s footsteps.

“She didn’t grope you this time, did she?”

“No, and she hasn’t since she was twelve. You really need to let that go, Chlo.”

While the sun rises and falls on her eldest granddaughter, Chloe is ever vigilant to curb any impulsive tendencies, so afraid that Allie will make the same mistakes she did when she was her age.

She grins at your teasing, and for a moment you both lose yourselves in each other’s faces and memories.

“So how would my favorite gal like to get some fresh air?” You stand, reaching one hand toward her.

While her nod is minute, her smile is anything but. She raises both of her arms and you scoop her up, swinging her around once just to make her giggle. Ten years ago, she would have whacked you if you tried to pick her up like a ‘damsel in distress’ but the protests have long since died away. You know you’re one of the strongest men on the planet, but a part of you knows that even if you weren’t she’d still weigh nothing more than a feather. You wonder how someone so delicate could have affected so much change in her lifetime?

“Daddy, Clark is kidnapping Grams again,” Allison calls in a joking ‘I’m gonna tell’ voice as you descend the stairs with your precious package. With any other teenager, you might worry about their intent, but Allison thinks you two make the sweetest couple and always sighs happily whenever you come to visit.

“One of these days we’re going to quit paying the ransom,” Robert calls from the kitchen.

Allison blocks your way, an evil grin growing on her face as she makes a big production of crossing her arms. “You promise to be home before dark?”

Chloe sticks her tongue out at her granddaughter.

“Maybe,” you say, going along with the joke.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Chloe opens her mouth, but you manage to dart past her granddaughter before she’s able to get her zinger out. She looks at you in mock exasperation even as Allison calls out behind you. “I heard that.”

In some ways, your visits have taken on a routine. Chloe remains fairly sedate while you put her in the car. She smiles and waves to whoever sees you off on your big adventure. But the moment, you turn onto the country road, she starts to bounce in anticipation. The trip to the barn where you stash your car is only two minutes away, but you always worry that one of these days the excitement may get to her.

Today, however, won’t be that day.

You didn’t master flying until you were almost twenty. The thought of those early days of sloppy takeoffs and landings still make you cringe with embarrassment. But Chloe was there, as she always is, encouraging you, refusing to let you give up, offering advice and wincing sympathetically even though nothing but your ego was bruised.

After you had gained some control, she insisted you take her up, rationalizing that you’d soon be rescuing people and needed to practice balancing with people in your arms. She was right, of course. And despite the fact that you crashed more than once with her, she always jumped up, brushed herself off and demanded you try again until you got it right.

“Where to, beautiful?”

“The bridge,” she says, as if she’s been thinking about this answer for a while.

As you hold her gently in your arms and take to the sky, her breath catches like it did the first time, and because it never grows old for her, it has never grown old for you.

When you arrive at your destination, you continue to hold her. Because you can. Because she lets you. Because you know days like these are numbered and you hold each one precious, like you hold her.

“I think we should tell Allison,” she whispers softly, not looking at you, but at the wildflowers that spread out toward the horizon.

You know she’s right, but you shake your head anyway. To acknowledge her words means to start letting go and that you refuse to do.

“I’ll take care of it.” She lays her hand on your cheek and you lean into her touch, knowing that while you’ll accept Allison because it is Chloe’s last gift to you. It won’t be the same, will never be the same.

But tomorrow is another day and you have yet to live this one, so you hold her to you and dance to the music of the wind and the laughter of the flowers basking in the sun and memorize her smile and the fit of her hand in yours.


End file.
